


she didn't mind

by fxbricxtedrexlity



Category: Mamamoo, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Smut, and now to the actual tags, featuring the following, just to be on the safe side, maybe some smut, photographer!byul, sickly-domestic-and-fluffly-af-moonsun™, singer!yong, so-done-with-their-flirting-staffs-and-supporting-characters©, supportive wheesa, there i put it up lololol, this is my take in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-09 12:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fxbricxtedrexlity/pseuds/fxbricxtedrexlity
Summary: A picture is the physical copy of capturing how light that travels in the speed of 186,282 miles per second in a vaccum is reflected through different surfaces and it takes approximately three minutes for a polaroid picture to develop.What Moon Byulyi doesn’t know is the exact numbers of when, where, the length, and the speed of how she fell for Kim Yongsun.aka the photgrapher!byul and singer!yong fic ft. sickly-domestic-and-fluffly-af-moonsun™ + supportive wheesa + so-done-with-their-flirting-staffs-and-supporting-characters©





	1. ::chapter prompts::

**::chapter prompts::**

~~[based in a post i saw in tumblr and cant see again coz i got distracted with hd moonsun photos forgive me]~~

 

::i::

_always choosing to be partners for anything in order to have more time together_

 

::ii::

_they go to dances/social events together because “no one wanted to be their date”/“no one asked them out”_

 

::iii::

_secretly holding hands under the table whenever one of them [or both] gets nervous_

 

::iv::

sometimes one of them will lay their head in the others lap while the other plays around with their hair

 

::v::

imagine at any sleepovers they insist on sharing a bed [in a cute cuddly way] so their friend[s] can have the couch or something

 

::vi::

their friends/parents/fellow classmates/literally everyone can see they’re together even though they deny it

 

::vii::

both of them being too nervous to ask if they’re just friends or actually in a relationship so they’re both awkward, confused, flustered messes

 

::viii::

“we’re ”‘friends’“ but i’d totally date you if you asked me out”

 

::ix::

never really truly establishing their relationship but it more or less just happens and they both accept it

 

* * *

 

 

yeah, this is basically a bunch of fluffy scenarios i fit into the prompt, nothing serious. just want to get another moonsun fic out there. also, don't let the mature tag fool you  ~~the steamy stuff will come near the end like a good slow burn~~

i also made a twitter: **rexwrites** *shameless self plug* and you can follow me and i'll be sure to follow back + make one shots on prompts/scenarios u dm me ;))


	2. ::i::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: always choosing to be partners for anything in order to have more time together

::

 

With her latest album on its last legs of some final tweaking, polishing, and the promotions had built up a hype buzz about Kim Yongsun—Solar’s—new album, there’s one final thing missing: the album photo.

 

The album in itself is intimate and it says a lot about Yongsun’s growth as a musician—if she can say so herself, but the album also holds some of her first compositions so she thinks she can brag about that one—and she remembers a setting in an asian movie she and her best friend watched the weekend before that _fits_ what she envisions her cover to look like.

 

It’ll be _perfect_.

 

 _Now,_ she contemplates, pulling up her and her best friend’s synched calendar, checking the other woman’s schedule and wonders where she can fit herself an overseas photoshoot.

 

::

 

Her palms are sweaty. The phone in her hand shows that only a minute passed since the last time she checked and Yongsun really can’t afford to miss her flight and she _knew_ she should’ve dropped by their apartment despite her recording and meeting lasting well over midnight last night but at least she wouldn’t be panicking right now and—

 

There’s a cold press of a nose at the nape of her neck, the heavy weight of a person draping itself across her back with an arm draped over her shoulder, circling across her collarbones and the warmth of a palm pressing itself against the light fabric of her shirt.

 

“Oh, god,” Yongsun sags behind her in relief, sees her manager shake her head lightly at the person behind her before wheeling the familiar gray suitcase right next to the matching white of Yongsun’s own suitcase. “Took you long enough.” There’s no real venom in her words, knowing full well how hectic the other woman’s own schedule is.

 

“Sorry,” Byul whispers the apology against the collar of Yongsun’s shirt, hold tightening before she lets it loose enough to let Yongsun turn and face her. “, almost slept through all of my alarms.”

 

Yongsun sees the airport clock behind her best friend’s head— _03:27_ , it says—and she feels the guilt bubbling up in her throat that Byul shushes with a squeeze to her hip, eyes still closed from being half awake.

 

“Let’s go,” Byul says, not knowing that she’s dragging Yongsun farther from their airport gate, following Yongsun’s steering blindly with her eyes half closed. “, I can always catch sleep in the flight.”

 

And even though Yongsun had to endure almost three hours of the flight sitting up straight just to provide her best friend the ideal shoulder height to sleep comfortably in, she thinks it’s worth worming her way into Byul’s schedule.

 

::

 

She doesn’t remember how she got home but judging from the faint smell of Byul’s shampoo from the abuse pillow being crushed between her arms, Yongsun can safely assume that she’s in her bedroom.

 

There’s a deep-seated ache that settles in her bones as she tries to flail her arm around her bed, swatting in the general direction where her phone vibrated just seconds before, and she feels so sluggish that Yongsun opts to forget about her phone if not for the damned device vibrating again a few minutes later.

 

**_Byulyiii [8:26AM]_ **

_Left your breakfast in the microwave, heat it up later_

 

**_Byulyiii [8:31AM]_ **

_Enjoy your day off :)_

 

A smile creeps up her face despite the obnoxiously bright screen of her phone, typing out a reply to her best friend with an eye closed and the other squinted so hard. It’s too much effort so early in the morning to try and turn the brightness down.

 

**_Yongddunnie [8:33AM]_ **

_You’re at work already?_

 

Yongsun swears she’s not waiting for a reply, but when minutes pass of staring at the little sliver of light on the ceiling coming in through the window (Byul always makes sure her blinds are down whenever she forgets because the younger woman called her a devil incarnate one morning she woke up sourly because of the bright morning light) and she still doesn’t feel the familiar vibration of an incoming message, Yongsun decides it’s better to start her day now.

 

Her feet aches a little when it touches the carpet around her bed, testament of how gruesome the shoot for the past two days was. Yongsun remembers is the early mornings and the late nights, heels numbing her feet from posing and walking in cobblestone streets, the uncomfortable itch of a dress tag digging into her back.

 

Jjing and Daebak are at cozied up at the corner of the living room, their ears perking up when they see Yongsun stumble out of the bedroom, but stays where they are, content with the little patch of warm sunlight hitting their fur just right that makes them look more fluffy.

 

Yongsun settles down into the couch, cup of steaming coffee in her hand and a plate of take out from the restaurant from a few buildings down in the other, she sees the multitude of polaroid pictures piled up and overlapping each other, stretched and laid out over the expanse of the coffee table.

 

It’s pictures that reminds her of the uncomfortable itch of a dress tag digging into her back—a picture of when she’s brandishing a scissor as a weapon, face red from discomfort; three pictures of the two of them playing hide and seek with the camera in between the clothing racks.

 

It’s pictures that reminds her of the ache her feet went through by walking in cobblestone streets—the same street where Byul took a picture of her whining, face twisted up in petulance but lips twitched up in a barely contained smile; the rough texture of the street digging into their skin when they raced barefoot; the heat of the sun prickling their skin as a staff caught a candid picture of them in the middle of the shoot, Yongsun posing and Byul focused behind the camera.

 

It’s pictures of early mornings—of Yongsun with a bed head; stuffed cheeks expensive hotel breakfast buffet; Byul with her professional camera slung over her shoulder, hair ruffled in the early morning breeze; Yongsun in the dressing room, posing ridiculously with Byul and the polaroid camera in her hand caught in the mirror’s reflection; of the both of them as silhouettes against the rising sun.

 

It’s pictures of late nights—of their shadows while holding hands under the light of a post lamp; an attempt to capture the full moon’s beauty that ends up in a picture of pure black with Yongsun’s hand held up in a peace sign caught at the bottom; multiple pictures of them in their hotel room, white sheets and red cheeks; and a lone mirror shot of them brushing their teeth side by side in mismatched pajamas.

 

Yongsun stuffs her feet farther into the couch cushions, breakfast long gone cold as she thumbs through different pictures and wonder about how they didn’t run out of film.

 

But then again, her best friend’s Moon Byulyi—her best friend that always has a camera on her body, and then another inside her bag. The best friend that always had a penchant for taking pictures of Yongsun, people, and inanimate objects and made a career out of it a few years later.

 

Byul told her a few years back that she only takes pictures of things she deems that are pretty.

 

_(“You took a picture of a crack in the sidewalk?”_

 

 _“It’s not_ just _a crack. There’s a plant in between the concrete, Yong, it’s_ art _.”)_

 

Moon Byulyi—the same best friend that cleared up two days of her fully booked schedule to make time for Yongsun’s photoshoot just because the older woman wants her new album photo to be _perfect_ and Byul always manages to get the best out of her, photos not an exception to that.

 

Yongsun doesn’t realize how much time she spent going through what seems like hundreds of pictures, her mind replaying the weekend in exact clarity solidified in a single photo, when her phone vibrates in between the couch cushions.

 

**_Byulyiii [11:01AM]_ **

_Shoot ended early today, otw home now_

_Clean up, I’m taking my favorite girl out for lunch_

 

What if she couldn’t stop the smile stretching her lips? It’s not like Byul’s around to tease her about it.

 

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a test drive ;) follow me on twitter: rexwrites and you can call me rex, in case i haven't introduced myself yet :)


	3. ::ii::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: they go to dances/social events together because “no one wanted to be their date”/“no one asked them out”

::

 

Yongsun sits at the breakfast bar, one of her feet tangled with the lower rung of the stool, finger idly scrolling through her tablet, a little irked with the glare of light reflecting against the surface of her tablet but if she closes the curtain, Byul will give her one of those _that’s-not-healthy-for-you-and-I’m-disappointed-but-I’ll-let-it-go_ looks and maybe, Yongsun thinks, she’ll that for some other time.

 

Today is too much of a good morning for that mood.

 

The pan’s simmering lightly in the background, Byul somewhere below Yongsun’s line of vision—probably digging for dog food when she sees both of their dogs strut obediently by the stove, wagging their tail eagerly—and one of Yongsun’s older album plays in the background.

 

She’s distracted by the piercing barks of their dogs, hovering her upper body over the counter to see Byul sitting on the floor against the cupboards with two overly eager overgrown puppies lapping at her face.

 

Yongsun coos, recording it just in time for Byul to throw her head back, crashing against the cupboard, but laughter still bubbling and spilling over her lips that makes Yongsun smile behind her phone despite the ridiculousness of it all.

 

They settled back with the dogs scurrying off to eat their breakfast, Byul attending back to the stove, and Yongsun checking through today’s schedule, when she sees it:

 

**_Byulyiii:_ ** _Suit Fitting (Company Gala)—5:00PM_

 

“Hey,” she looks up just in time for Byul to plop a plate of food in front of them. “, you’re getting your suit fitted just tonight? Isn’t your gala, like, tomorrow?”

 

Byul looks at her funny for a second, before placing down a cup of juice for the two of them. “Yeah, it’s tomorrow.” She hands Yongsun her utensils, waiting for the singer to hold her chopsticks properly before she starts eating. “I told you we’ll go look after we’re done with yours so I’ll know which color to wear.”

 

There’s a spoonful of rice halfway into Yongsun’s mouth, perplexed but still too hungry to be surprised so she takes a bite before asking. “Why would we look for what I’ll wear?”

 

Byul tilts her head. “Because you’re coming too, right? To my company gala?” When Yongsun responds with a blank stare, Byul continues. “You’ll be my date, right? That’s why you only have that radio show in the afternoon and then you’re free until tomorrow.”

 

Yongsun feels like this is the first time they’re having this conversation. “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” she says, unable to stop herself from plowing a few spoonfuls of food in her mouth before regarding her best friend with a serious expression, chewing as fast as she could with her cheeks filled with food. “When did this happen? I’ll be your date? And how come I don’t know about this?”

 

“We talked about it on the phone—remember the day I was talking to you from a bathroom because the shoot wouldn’t let us have our phone out?” She waits for Yongsun to remember, grinning at the laugh that encompasses her best friend’s whole face at the memory. “I asked you _then_.”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Yongsun defends, crossing her arms against her chest, almost knocking over the pitcher of juice in the process. “I would’ve remembered because I was bored at a dressing room that day and would’ve spent the whole time looking for a dress the moment you told me. But I spent that afternoon playing card games with my hair stylists.”

 

Byul leans back on her chair, pursing her lips and pushing a few stray rice back into the middle of her bowl.

 

“Guess I forgot to ask you, then.”

 

Yongsun laughs so loudly that their dogs join in on the noise, eyes crinkled and watery as she commits the image of her best friend blushing madly, grinning down at her food sheepishly.

 

::

 

Yongsun sags against the leather couch, letting the cool store air slap her face as the mask slips from her face. There’s commotion at the front door of the store, the staff whisked away with promises of a peaceful shopping experience and that they should take their time, running off to block the entranceways.

 

Ever since they were both spotted almost an hour ago while feeding each other spoonfuls of each other’s crepe, there has been an increase of the sound of cameras going off and a suspicious looking crowd just following them a few paces away.

 

The couch drops on one side, Yongsun lifting her head enough to see her best friend sat sideways, chin propped against a fist, staring at her over the rim of her sunglasses.

 

“Ah, look at what you’ve done,” Byul teases, waving a hand in the general direction of the noise. “, you’ve brought them.”

 

Yongsun scrunches up her nose, not one to openly flaunt her _celebrity_ status unlike some who’s egos inflated because of fame. But she plays along nonetheless. “Me?” She snorts, smirking as if on cue. “If I’m not mistaken, I’m hearing a lot of _Byulyi-unnie_ being screamed right now.”

 

“Oh, shut up,” Byul swats at her thigh before standing up, carding through the selection of suits that a staff wheeled in front of them. “Help me?”

 

::

 

The sounds of cameras clicking and the light of flashes going off were mostly ignored by the time Byul tries on her fifth suit.

 

It’s a classic dark grey three-piece suit that comes with gold trimmings. It matches the deep blue dress Yongsun bought earlier and the gold jewelry set Byul gifted her during last season’s award show.

 

Yongsun watches her best friend’s back, hair tied in a low ponytail, cartoon socks mismatched against the formality of her suit. There’s a minute where Yongsun watches as Byul meticulously looks for any damage in the suit, turning her torso this way and that to make sure she’s comfortable as she can be in a three piece, before pulling a tie from the array of fabric lined up beside her.

 

Standing up, Yongsun takes the fabric from Byul’s hand with ease, pulling up the collar of the dress shirt and looping the tie against her best friend’s neck.

 

“Thank you,” Byul murmured to the space in between them, eyes still trained in the mirror in front of them.

 

“For?” Yongsun hums, feeling a sense of familiarity of doing a simple task of simply tying Byul’s tie for her.

 

“Going with me.”

 

Yongsun smirks. “You forgot to ask,” she teases, laughing when color rises in Byul’s cheeks.

 

When they’ve sobered up, Yongsun tucking the tie inside the vest neatly and buttoning up the two buttons of the blazer, Byul speaks up again. “No one wanted to come with me, you know?”

 

“Glad to know I’m your second choice, then.”

 

“It’s not that,” Byul whines, batting Yongsun’s hands away only for the singer to twist away from her with light footsteps and spilled laughter. “No one said yes to me because they all said I’ll go with you either way.” She shrugs, frowning when it tugs the suit upwards, before pulling it back down and nodding once in satisfaction. She turns to Yongsun who’s leaning against a rack of suit, eyes as soft as the smile on her lips. “How do I look?”

 

Yongsun winks at her. “You’ll definitely make everyone regret not coming with you.”

 

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow my twitter: rexwrites in case u wanna dm me prompts and shiz or fangirl in general with me lololol


	4. ::iii::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: secretly holding hands under the table whenever one of them [or both] gets nervous

::

 

The room doesn’t spin as much the next time Byul knocks her head back with another shot, her eyebrows meeting in the middle when it lacks the usual burn that she’s come to know well from soju. She raises an eyebrow at Wheein and the younger woman just shrugs.

 

“I was giving you water for your past three shots, you only notice now,” she snickers, picking another chicken leg and there’s a suddenly noticeable lack of soju bottles in their table.

 

Byul strangely wonders just how drunk she got right now.

 

“What time is it?” She reaches for a chicken too. Since her friend already cut her off on the alcohol, it’s better to let food soak up what’s left inside her stomach so she won’t be as hungover tomorrow.

 

“A few minutes after one in the morning,” Wheein says, scrunching her nose as she looks at her schedule.

 

They’re at the place that could care less about Wheein’s celebrity status and Byul’s fame in the photo industry, as long as they keep their usual noise to a tolerable volume and they pay before they order their fourth bottle of soju. It doesn’t have the best food, but it tastes like familiarity and they don’t mind when Byul pays them extra to keep the oil to a minimum.

 

Byul hums, studying the people milling outside, the city looking alive as it can be in one in the morning, when her phone rings with an incoming call.

 

**_Yongddunnie is calling…_ **

 

Huh.

 

“Yong?” She gestures to the phone, Wheein giving her a nod that translates that she doesn’t mind, going back to eating.

 

_“Are you still out with Wheein?”_

 

Byul nods, belatedly realizing that her best friend can’t see her, replying two beats late. “Yeah, we’re at that place near Hongdae, why’d you ask?”

 

The other line is silent for a moment, Byul looking at her wristwatch and wonders if it will be alright to cut their drink short. _“Just come home soon, okay? Be safe.”_

 

Yongsun hangs up before Byul has a chance to reply, and she fishes enough bills inside her wallet to pay for her half of the bill, Wheein watching her in amusement.

 

“Your wife called you?” She teases, pushing the empty dish away from herself and pulling out money herself.

 

Byul glares but softens when she sees the other woman pack up her things, too. “Sorry to cut our drinking short, Wheenie. It’s just that—“

 

“No I get it,” Wheein laughs at the other woman, waggles her eyebrows as she says: “, it’s Yongsunnie.” She says it as if Yongsun being weird at 1AM is enough acceptable reason to cut short their always-pushed-back-drinking because of their schedules. “I mean,” Wheein continues when their server leaves with their payment, pushing an arm through her coat sleeve. “, if I was dating Yongsunnie and living with her, I’d rush home, too.”

 

 _“Yah!_ Jung Wheein!”

 

::

 

They’re not dating.

 

Despite being best friends for _years_ , living together, being inseparable, going to different public outings as each other’s dates, despite Byul being an openly pansexual individual, despite Yongsun being an active advocate of every human right especially LGBT+ rights, despite them knowing each other’s dirty secret, despite Yongsun _not_ failing to bring up her best friend in every other interview or radio broadcast _ever—_

 

_They’re not dating._

 

But when Yongsun opens their door to Byul drunken knocking—the full glass of water Wheein made her drink before they part ways doing little in diluting the alcohol inside of her—hair in a messy bun with wisps loose and framing her face, the inside of their apartment smelling like fabric conditioners, and Yongsun coddling over her like an overgrown child instead of a drunk adult, Byul lets her mind wander.

 

Just for a bit.

 

Of what it’s like to date—

 

“Jeez, how much did you guys drink?” Yongsun scrunches up her nose playfully, glass of water in her hand and a plate of heated leftovers. “You stink.”

 

Byul guffaws, poking at her best friend’s side with the dull side of the spoon until Yongsun relents and goes back to the laundry room, coming out with a basket filled with their laundry. Byul raises an eyebrow when Yongsun exits her room, patting the couch space next to her as she takes a bite of her food.

 

“Is something wrong?” She asks straight to the point, washing the food down with water.

 

Yongsun shifts on the space next to her, taking the spoon from her hand and pushing Byul until they’re facing each other on the couch, Yongsun feeding her. It means she’s nervous—not quite sure of what to do with her hands and stalling time in the face of a direct confrontation.

 

If there’s something Byul learned in her long friendship with the older woman, it’s to not push whenever Yongsun’s unsure of something or else she’ll recoil like a loose spring and you’ll be left to search in between the universe and hope you do well the second time around. If she lets you find her, that is.

 

_How drunk am I?_

 

The plate’s almost empty by the time Yongsun speaks.

 

“I was nominated for Golden Disk,” she says under her breath, nervousness shaking the plate, just shy of tilting over.

 

“Yong!” Byul shoots up the couch, taking the plate and placing it back down on the couch as she drags the older woman into a hug. “That’s _amazing!_ When did they tell you? _Fuck_ , I knew the hole in my shirt was a sign not to go out tonight.”

 

“Just earlier,” Yongsun says, a smile on her lips as she sinks into her best friend’s embrace, their bare feet brushing against each other on the carpet. “, I called you right after.”

 

“You could’ve told me, I would’ve brought home food or something.” Byul hums against Yongsun’s temple, swaying them both softly to a phantom music. “But seriously, this is amazing,” she stops, twirling Yongsun out before pulling her back in, all giggles and soft cheeks. “, _you’re_ amazing.”

 

Yongsun feels her face heat up at the sudden adoration flooding through the stare Byul’s giving her. She pushes her best friend to the couch, plopping herself down against a willing lap as she picks up the plate of almost finished food, shoving another mouthful to tamper her best friend’s grin, warm hands spilling themselves under her shirt and rest against the dip of Yongsun’s hip bones.

 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Moon Byulyi.”

 

“I got you, that means I already got everything, doesn’t it?”

 

Yongsun squirms off Byul’s lap, blush high on her cheeks. “Stop being greasy!”

 

::

 

Yongsun stir up quite a buzz.

 

By the time they’re finished with the red carpet entrance with Byul occasionally stepping back when the paparazzi needs solo shots of her best friend, she feels like there’s a perpetual rave going off in the back of her eyelids with the amount of flashes her eyes had to endure.

 

Yongsun doesn’t look as put out as she feels, making Byul sulk slightly, but given Yongsun’s status, it’s a given that she’s used to being in the limelight.

 

People steers her best friend away from her in every other conversation, and it’s fine, at least she’s got Hyejin with her.

 

“Unnie’s hair is everyone’s talk,” Hyejin says, spinning her glass of wine before taking a sip, eyes in the opposite direction of Yongsun and if Byul follows her line of sight—

 

“Ah, Wheenie,” she greets the other woman, watching as she sidles up next to Hyejin. They both went stag, but the media still took pictures of them together. Nothing beats showbiz than a good best-friends-till-fame story.

 

“I’m digging Yongsunnie’s hair,” Wheein supplies as conversation, eyeing the eldest woman who’s suspiciously sending them looks every few seconds. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

 

“Yeah,” Byul hums absentmindedly, jerking her head in a _come here_ motion, watching as her best friend politely excuse herself from the horde of singers around her. “, she was shy at first, but then she owned it.”

 

There’s an overhead announcement of the program starting soon as Yongsun reaches them, her celebrity facade up with the amount of cameras littered everywhere. Byul still takes her hand, squeezing tightly, before she leads them to the their seats, maneuvering swiftly and avoiding chatterboxes that seem to want to talk to Yongsun for extended periods at a time.

 

An hour into the program, a movement in her peripheral vision takes Byul’s eyes away from the stage, looking at her best friend who’s meticulously adjusting her hair every second. The third time she catches it happening, Byul takes cold and clammy hands in hers, blowing warm breath over frozen fingers, and pressing a kiss to the inside of a wrist and wishes there’s no camera on them right now as she rubs her thumbs over the back of Yongsun’s hand.

 

“You’re doing great,” she whispers, looking at every minute change on Yongsun’s face, watches as the oldest woman just breathes in harshly, tightening her grip on Byul’s offered hold, before going slack, mouthing a _thank you_ to the photographer.

 

In front of her, Byul watches as Wheein lean into Hyejin’s ear, the two younger woman looking over their shoulder, eyeing their interlocked hands, before Wheein mouths _wife_ , to which Byul replies with a glare and resolutely continues in watching the stage.

 

When they call Yongsun up to receive her award, Byul holds on tightly until just before the spotlight trains on them, making a last minute decision and escorts Yongsun to the bottom of the stage, not letting go of her best friend’s hand until she absolutely has to.

 

Yongsun may have mentioned Byul one too many times during her acceptance speech but everyone’s used to it by now.

 

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1k words seem like it's not much but when i think about it, i'll be posting 1k words per prompt so in the end, this fic will have around 9k words and it's not that bad lololol
> 
> follow me on twitter: rexwrites


	5. ::iv::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: sometimes one of them will lay their head in the other’s lap while the other plays around with their hair

::

 

The first time Wheein met Kim Yongsun, Moon Byulyi is always there _somehow_.

 

It was at a company meeting and she’s the new hire, already tasked in being under Yongsun’s— _Solar’s_ —care and collaborating with each other for a song in the older woman’s album at that time. Imagine the instant scrutiny of the public when _she_ —a nobody from a small town—becomes the apprentice of an allegedly high notes goddess and a woman with impeccable vocal technique.

 

So to say she was nervous that day was an understatement. She didn’t know the proper studio conduct, what’s the right time to pipe in her opinion, but Solar just smiled at her, repeating what she suggests when the higher ups pretend they don’t even hear her until people started to contemplate her ideas.

 

After being briefed on her project, she waits for Solar outside of the meeting room, curiously peeking this way and that as she watches people mill around with their headphones in or talking to someone on the phone—someone even passed her by rollerskating down the hall while playing the melodica—when someone leans against the cubicle in front of her, all silver dyed hair and a suit without a tie, the first few buttons undone and an expensive looking camera slung to their side.

 

“You new?” The woman asks, offering the bag of chips she’s been holding, and Wheein politely accepts a piece, filing away in her head that this must be a senior. “Ah, right, you’re the new hire Yongsun said that’ll collab with her, right?”

 

“Yongsun…Kim Yongsun?” Wheein subtly does a once-over of the other woman, deducing that she must be either a producer or someone high enough to be on a first name, honorific-free name basis with Solar-sunbaenim.

 

“Yeah, or are you one of those who prefers to call her Solar?” The woman’s smile is full of amusement, crinkled at the edge of her eyes and scrunched up nose.

 

Noise erupts at the front of the office, Wheein’s attention caught for a moment as she watches a delivery man haul in large bags of what looks like chicken. Most of the staff immediately crowd, some shouting at instructions to get plates at the pantry and some throwing smiles their way.

 

“Ah, you spoil them way too much.” Wheein jumps at the sound of her senior’s voice, immediately bowing when Solar looks at her. The older woman waving her hand in dismissal. “You can just call me unnie if you want, there’s really no need for strict formality if we’ll be working close.”

 

“Ah, yes, unnie.” she stammers, hesitating at the word, and a bit irked when the woman who still refuses to introduce herself laughs at her.

 

“This is Moon Byulyi but it’s okay if you forget her name, she’s not working here, anyway,” Solar introduces, waving a uninterested hand to which _Moon Byulyi_ catches and bites playfully at her senior’s finger. Wheein’s eyebrows raise slightly. _Not a coworker…so a lover, then?_

 

“That’s not how you thank someone that just bought you lunch, Yong.” Moon Byulyi challenges, the two older woman glaring at each other and Wheein feels like she’s intruding on something.

 

“Ah, I should get going…” she awkwardly tries to shuffle away from her senior, but Yongsun stops her with a firm hand around her forearm.

 

“Let’s eat together, Byul bought enough chicken for the staff anyway, you’re lucky on your first day.”

 

After that, it’s glaringly obvious how much time Moon Byulyi spends at their company, everyone knows her and is friends with her. Even with their weird and tense first meeting, Wheein admits there’s a kind of charm to the photographer that people unconsciously start to gravitate toward her.

 

She wonders, months after meeting her unnies, watching as they eat their lunch in silence and sharing one plate and feeding each other in between bites, if they’re ever planning on telling each other about their feelings.

 

::

 

The studio’s cold the moment Wheein stepped inside, thanking herself for being lazy in matching an outfit that she just threw on a large shirt and some sweats that’re black enough that it doesn’t look like she’s been using it at home for the past two days.

 

She takes of her shoes, tucking her feet under her legs as she settles down into the couch, scrolling through her voice notes as she listens to a few recordings she did earlier this week and wonders if a song could be made out of it.

 

It’s comfortable, being the first one in the studio, and Wheein’s concentrating enough that she’s piecing together a chord progression in her mind, humming a melody into the microphone of her phone when—

 

_“Ah!”_

 

There’s _loud_ laughter coming from inside the recording booth, Wheein whipping her head up so fast that she sees two people cramped inside, making a ruckus, and generally being unprofessionals. There goes her thousand won when she made a bet with Yongsun that she’ll arrive earlier than the older woman.

 

Wheein stands up with a scowl on her face, not amused with having to give up her comfortable position on the couch _and_ also losing a bet just to break up her two unnies who’s hell bent in tickling the soul out of each other.

 

“Ah- _em!”_ She says into the microphone, watching as the two older women jump in shock at Wheein’s sudden voice. “If you’re not too busy, Yongsunnie, I have a few ideas down if you don’t mind listening to them.” She raises her eyebrow, not even bothered that she basically smart-mouthed a senior, but the way Yongsun blushes deeply, exiting the booth with embarrassment written all over her body language, Wheein takes it as a victory.

 

“Sorry,” Yongsun murmurs, shoving at the arm that Byul slings over her shoulder as the photographer follows her out of the booth. “, Byul came by to drop off a couple of pizza for the staff. There should be still some at the pantry if you want.”

 

Wheein perks up at the thought of more food but recovers her unamused facade quickly. “Mmhmm,” she hums, pointing her stare at the other woman who’s clearly _not_ working in the same company as them. She sighs when her glare doesn’t do anything but deepen Byul’s cheeky grin. “, don’t you have a job, unnie?”

 

“Yup,” she said, being a pain as she pops the letter for emphasis. “, lunch break.” She says simply. As if it’s common that she orders enough pizza to feed their staff twice and drives all the way to the other side of downtown during the lunch rush just to _have lunch_.

 

Wheein shakes her head, opting to playing the piano at the corner as the two women settles in her space at the couch, all pressed up limbs and hushed voices.

 

::

 

Steam trickles out of her bathroom, following her, and she startles when she sees Hyejin lounging on her bed, hair sprawled out and fanning at all directions.

 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, reaching for the comb and tries to dry her hair with one hand using the towel, grateful for it being cut short recently.

 

“They’re at it again,” Hyejin sighs, rolling over and pressing her cheeks against the blanket, staring helplessly at her best friend. “, it’s a freaking cold. I swear if Yongsunnie sneezes another time and Byulyiunnie acts like it’s the end of the fucking world, I’ll push them together to kiss myself.”

 

Wheein throws her head back, throws the towel into the hamper while she’s at it, laughing at her petty best friend, before dragging them outside her bedroom. “You wouldn’t.”

 

“She wouldn’t what?” Yongsun asks, craning her head around to the back of the couch to watch the two younger woman exit Wheein’s bedroom.

 

“Hyejinnie was just plotting another prank on you, unnie, no biggie.”

 

As if on cue, Byul glares at the youngest so hard that Hyejin flinches beside Wheein, the photographer wrapping an arm around Yongsun’s shoulder as she pushes the eldest to her side, forcing her to lay her head on Byul’s lap to which Yongsun just melts into, thankful for having a soft pillow to rest her throbbing head.

 

“You try to bully the sick and you’ll catch these hands, Ahn Hyejin.”

 

Beside her, Hyejin gestures to Byul with an exaggerated whine. _“See?_ I make _one_ joke, and she’s all guard dog up on Yongsunnie.”

 

“I heard that.”

 

Hyejin flinches, but decides to strut over her previous place in the love seat, sticking her tongue out and taking great satisfaction that Byul couldn’t reach over and shove her, not as Yongsun snuggles herself further against her best friend’s stomach, back facing the screen and more opting in resting than joining their impromptu movie night.

 

The youngest fakes a gag behind her mouth when she hears Byul whispering _do you want some soup? Here’s a blanket, what’s that? Water?_ Wheein stifling her laugh behind her hand and snorting when Byul looks at them, confused with a hint of annoyance.

 

**_Cleopathwa [8:29PM]_ **

_I bet five thousand_

_That Byulunnie won’t make the first move_

 

**_Wheepup [8:29PM]_ **

_OHOHOHOHOHOHO_

_You’re on_

 

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i centered more on wheein's pov than the prompt im so sorry :< hope the fast updates make up for it tho, it's been fun writing everyday, i'm loving the push so i hope u like how this flows into xx


	6. ::v::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: imagine at any sleepover, they insist on sharing a bed [in a cute cuddly way] so their friend[s] can have the couch or something

::

 

Yongsun holds her breath, wrapping her arms tightly against herself as she wills her heart rate to slow down, pressing herself further against the tree, hoping that its shadow conceals her enough to blend well into the dark.

 

She starts to count in her head.

 

_One._

 

_Two._

 

There’s footsteps to her right.

 

_Three._

 

_Four._

 

_Five—_

 

“Hey there.”

 

She squeals at the sudden weight of Byul crashing against her side, their coats making it impossible for Byul to wrap her arms around the singer as she wriggles her way out of the hold, laughter disturbing the serene evening in the park, a few people turning their heads to their noise.

 

They fall into a heap against the snow, all soft edges from their padded coats and red cheeks from the biting cold, Byul pinning her best friend to the ground, watching as white puffs of their breaths mingle, fascinated by the warm overhead glow of the lamppost against Yongsun’s profile, her hair fanned out and askew on the snow.

 

It’s a peaceful image.

 

Byul presses a palm to the center of Yongsun’s chest, holding her down lightly. “Stay there for a bit,” she whispers, voice hoarse in a way that doesn’t help in letting Yongsun calm her racing pulse. There’s a rummage of clothes as Byul digs through layers to find her phone, pulling herself up as she hovers above Yongsun, taking single picture. “You’re so beautiful.”

 

“Yah,” Yongsun’s voice shakes, suddenly aware of how intimate the moment is for a public setting. “, get off me, it’s starting to get cold.” She feels a droplet of cold water against her cheek when Byul pulls her up, squinting at the sky when she realizes that it’s raining rather than snowing.

 

They both shout, screams slicing through the air and people stopping to look at them. They pay them no mind, disregards that some has their phones out and no doubt got everything recorded and to be brought up by her manager as early as tomorrow morning.

 

 _It’s already worth it_ , Yongsun thinks, wiping at Byul’s wet cheeks with her handkerchief, the younger woman letting herself get dotted on as she busies herself in editing Yongsun’s photo earlier, all warm lights and soft eyes, shoulders bumping and scooting closer as they could in a bus.

 

::

 

It’s the holidays.

 

They’re on the road and on their way to a ski resort as per Wheein’s suggestion from winning to decide on where they should go for their vacation.

 

And Hyejin’s got a plan.

 

The sky’s already dark as she stretches her whole body, joints popping from being cramped at the backseat of Byul’s car and being Wheein’s pillow for the past hour. They left Seoul around 8PM so they can still have a full night’s rest before engaging in various festivities.

 

Her eyes follows as Byul announces that she’s buying coffee at the shop at the gas station, steering a bleary Yongsun who stumbles sleepily and murmuring something about using the restroom.

 

Poking her head back in the backseat, she rolls her eyes when she sees her best friend sprawled all over the the backseat, settled comfortably and snuggly against the leather cushion. Long nails scratch at a cheek warmed by sleep, lightly, her own version of an affectionate wake up call.

 

“What?” Wheein groans, voice squished against the upholstery.

 

“Gas station. You need anything?”

 

Wheein just shakes her head, mumbling something about needing energy for skiing, and slings and arm against her eyes.

 

Hyejin abandons her best friend, opening and plopping in the passenger seat, watching as Byul looks at her in confusion over the windshield as the older woman tucks herself in the driver’s seat, steaming coffee in her hand.

 

“Hi?” Byul inquires, confused at the sudden change of seats, glancing at the backseat and seeing Wheein dominating the whole space. “Do you need me to move her?”

 

Hyejin just shakes her head, tongue poking out between her lips, mischief written plain across her face that Byul shrugs off.

 

::

 

She grins wickedly at the sleepy and confused face of Yongsun as the eldest woman stands outside of the passenger’s side, confusion written all over her face.

 

“Unnie, Hyejinnie said she wanted to control the music since you’ve been asleep the whole ride.” Byul explains, eyes apologetic as Yongsun sobers up, shrugging like its no big deal but silently irked at the impish grin on the youngest woman’s lips.

 

She slips into the backseat, cradling Wheein’s head as she takes a seat, the younger of the two looking up at her confusedly when she realizes that it’s not Hyejin with her in the backseat, the husky voice resounding from somewhere inthe front, conversing lightly with their driver, their conversation thrumming over the noise of the engine.

 

Wheein fishes out her phone when Yongsun falls asleep with her head against the window, light snores escaping slightly parted lips.

 

**_Wheepup [9:35PM]_ **

_What are you up to?_

 

**_Cleopathwa [9:37PM]_ **

_What do you mean?_

_;)_

 

**_Wheepup [9:37PM]_ **

_I see you plotting_

_Let me in_

_Plsplspls_

 

**_Cleopathwa [9:38PM]_ **

_Nothing serious, really_

_Just testing their separation anxiety_

_Real plan starts with the sleeping arrangements later_

_;)_

 

Wheein blows out a breath at her best friend’s grand yet oddly effective plan, snorting when she cathes Byul stealing glances at the sleeping unnie beside her every few minutes.

 

 _God, it’s not like they’re even trying to be subtle about anything_.

 

::

 

Hyejin, Wheein decides, can’t act to save their lives.

 

No wonder the youngest took the liberty to suggest that she be the one who chooses and books their accommodation, for the holiday season, noting the way the open plan of the condo has a cozy vibe to it.

 

And it also has only one bedroom.

 

There’s a vibration against her thigh and Wheein glances at her best friend who’s acting oblivious and cooing at every surface of the rented space, pulling her phone out from the pocket of her sweats.

 

**_Cleopathwa [10:54PM]_ **

_Quick_

_Act like you have a really bad stiff neck_

 

Breathing in, she hopes this is worth it.

 

“Ow,” Wheein whimpers, immediately catching Yongsun’s attention who flocks her aggresively like a worried mother. “, slept in a weird position earlier.” And if she really thinks about it hard enough, Wheein can feel a barely there pain at the right juncture of where her neck meets her shoulder so it eases her guilt of somewhat _not_ entirely lying to the older woman.

 

“In that case,” Hyejin interjects, only Wheein was able to catch the wicked glint in her eyes as her best friend hauls her bag over a slim shoulder. “, you wouldn’t mind if we take the bed, right, unnie?”

 

It’s a question directed at Byul who’s standing beside Hyejin, the photographer glancing first at Yongsun and only moving to help Hyejin lift their bags when Yongsun gives her a fierce nod, still massaging knots into Wheein’s neck.

 

Wheein tries her hardest not to roll her eyes at how wrapped Moon Byulyi is around Kim Yongsun’s finger.

 

But then again, maybe they’re too wrapped around each other, whipped for each other beyond belief and able to co-exist fluidly and put trust in each other’s judgement so easily and without question.

 

When they both collapse at the spacious queen sized bed, Wheein and Hyejin fist bumps, thinking about the small pull-out sofa bed and the lone thick duvet they passed onto their unnies before they turned themselves inside the room.

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Wheein laughs out, humming at the soft sheets, too tired to rummage and open her luggage for a pajamas.

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 

::

 

Byul weaves inside the bathroom in time as Yongsun pulls up her shorts, the sound of the toilet flushing surrounding them both as Byul wordlessly hands over the singer her toothbrush with a dollop of paste, stuffing the brush inside her mouth as she reaches over to wash her hands.

 

They work silently with each other’s nightly rituals, bumping shoulders and exchanging sudsy kisses to the cheek before they take turns in washing their faces, Byul holding up a towel for Yongsun to dry her face in before she rinses her own face, turning the light off and closing the door behind them.

 

She settles in the left side of the small, makeshift bed, setting an alarm to wake up just around dawn to make breakfast for the younger ones, when the couch dips, Yongsun pulling the duvet back as she settles beside Byul, also on her phone as they silently check off any last minute work-related emails they missed. Byul sets her phone to the ground, groping for Yongsun’s hand as she places the singer’s phone next to hers.

 

In this impossibly small couch, Byul widens her left arm, inching it down until she feels Yongsun lift her head, using her arm as a pillow just like they both do back in their apartment, Byul’s room more of an extension of their closet and a storage room with a spare bed just for the sake of being able to say that she has her own room even though they spend every night together. Even if one’s away for work, they’ll naturally gravitate to Yongsun’s bed even if they’re alone.

 

“Cold?” Byul whispers in the dark, tugging the singer closer against her own, reaching over to the other side as she tucks Yongsun in tightly, comfortable as long legs tangle with hers under the covers, the weight a welcome intrusion.

 

“Perfect,” Yongsun yawns the word out, palm pressing down and resting against the curve of Byul’s collarbone, settling in the warm familiarity of her best friend, and drifting off to sleep.

 

::

 

Hyejin stumbles out of the bedroom halfway into the night, bleary and in need to pee, but not before she squints at the soft light left on the kitchen, casting a dim glow to the living room and enough for her to make out a big lump underneath the sheets of the sofa bed.

 

Yongsun’s sprawled on top of Byul, more on smothering her, but Byul’s got an arm around a slim waist, keeping her in place and secure, sleeping peacefully as if there’s no adult woman on top of her.

 

Hyejin takes a picture.

 

Maybe it can be the push her unnies need.

 

But for now, she needs to pee.

 

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a bit of some hyejin pov x) this fic's also coming to an end soon, maybe over the weekend? uni's starting to pick up again for me so i want to get this out before the tests start to trickle in TT rip 
> 
> twitter: rexwrites


	7. ::vi::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: their friends/parents/fellow classmates/literally everyone can see they’re together even though they deny it

::

 

_“Are you two dating?”_

 

Byul feels her eyes going wide at her youngest sister, Yesol, who has her phone in hand while one has the spoon, playing with the soup their mother made as she shoves an article to Byul’s face. Her eyes cross at the proximity of the screen.

 

It’s an article from a site she’s never heard of, _Solar and Photographer Moonbyul SPOTTED_ , is in bold letters for the header, and it’s clearly some pictures fans took of them during their holiday at the ski resort, some shots showing the clearly cropped and manipulated photo of taking Wheein and Hyejin out of the photo.

 

She scrolls some more, not bothering to read through the article and focusing on the pictures used. She notes that there’s even a screenshot of her own picture in Instagram, filing away a thought that she can file a lawsuit for not asking for her permission as the account owner before reposting, and tsks at her gullible youngest sister.

 

“We’re not,” she says simply. “, and put your phone away, we’re eating.”

 

“But you’re living together, right?” Seulgi pipes up from her place in front of Byul, giddy and a teasing lilt to her smile. Byul nods shakily, not knowing where this is going. She seems satisfied with their older sister’s nod, turning to Yesol immediatly. “Yesol, they’re not dating,” she says, Byul resuming her eating and hopes that whatever’s happening at their dinner table will stop soon. “, they’re _married_.”

 

Her two younger sisters cackle loudly, enough for her father to scold them lightly but not before shooting a teasing smirk at his oldest daughter.

 

“You,” Byul accuses, poking at her father’s shoulder on her way to the sink after their dinner. “, are a horrible father.”

 

Her father just laughs, full-bellied and happy at having a wonderful dinner with his wife and all of his children.

 

“Seulgi has a point there,” the head of the Moon family said, taking a stack of plate from his wife’s hands and carries it for her, watching as his two other younger daughters sneak out of the room to avoid their chores. “, Yongsun’s a great kid and she’s like a daughter to us, what’s stopping you?”

 

Byul sighs at her family’s poor attempt at matching her up, looking at her mother for help to which the Moon matriarch just shrugs and kisses her cheek, whispering a _I’ll leave you two alone_ , and leaving her alone in the kitchen with her father.

 

“It’s Yongsunnie,” she starts when her father won’t stop waggling his eyebrows, washing the plates and handing it to Byul to arrange in the dishwasher neatly. “, she’s different from everyone.”

 

Her father hums. “What makes you think that?”

 

“She’s familiar,” Byul thinks out loud, brows pulled together. “She’s too important to me to risk something like this.”

 

“But you like her?” Her father inquires, voice softening at the obviousness that his daughter’s already thought about dating her best friend in the past.

 

Byul nods softly, body slouching at the effort. “I do.”

 

“Enough to date her?”

 

“I think…so, yeah?” She admits. It’s embarrassing how much Byul thinks about the _what ifs_ when Yongsun’s cuddled up to her side as they do most nights, feeling herself curl her hand tighter against the frame pressed to her side, not wanting to pop the bubble of her intimate imagination just yet. “Like, when I treat her out for a fancy dinner or when we spend day offs together, I think about we’ve been practically a couple all along.”

 

Her father nods, putting the last plate in the dishwasher, scooping his daughter into an embrace.

 

“I like Yongsun,” he says against his daughter’s hair, laughing as she struggles out of his hold. “, she makes you soft.”

 

Byul breaks out of the hug, punching her father in the stomach lightly, smiling up at the man who never fails to make every jumbled mess inside her unfurl into clear understanding. “I’ll make sure to bring her over some time, then.”

 

Admitting it out loud to someone should be enough for now, Byul thinks, stomping up the stairs in an attempt to scare her younger sisters for teasing her at dinner, tickling them both when she corners them in Yesol’s bedroom.

 

**_Yongdunnie [9:34PM}_ **

_I burnt microwavable pizza_

_[Picture Attached]_

_Oops?_

 

And Byul laughs, heart feels so full being surrounded with her family but also excited at coming home to Yongsun.

 

::

 

_“Are you two dating?”_

 

It’s a common question that never fails to give Yongsun the urge to roll her eyes so hard that it’ll somehow get stuck to the back of her head. She wonders if it’s because her celebrity reputation is so squeaky clean that the media just doesn’t know what juicy information to squeeze out of her apart from her apparent relationship with her best friend.

 

She remembers a few years back when Byul got too amused with people voting on who she looked like most out of two male idols when she fooled around a shoot and tried on a short wig, the photographer pushing the limit of the prank and showing up crossdressed to Yongsun’s fan meet at a park, amusing Yongsun and her staff as the voting pool broadens.

 

What they didn’t foresee was paparazzi taking seemingly suspicious pictures of Yongsun out on a date with an allegedly handsome man.

 

For _months_ , radio interviews, variety shows, and even red carpet interviews would bring it up, asking the same inane question again and _again_ even when Yongsun and her management released a statement of apology and trying to blow off the unwarranted attention to Byul.

 

Her company never told the media it was Byul, actually.

 

It was Yongsun who told them.

 

No one can blame her, really, with her new album at that time and people were still more interested in her nonexistent love life, she snapped at an interview and—as polite and light she can put it—retold the whole story of how it was her best friend.

 

It doesn’t help in quelling the relationship rumors circling the two of them, everyone concluding their own stories like: _ah, the other woman probably crossdresses to feel validated in their relationship_ and _I heard they were together since college_ and _it makes sense for Solar’s We Got Married to be like that, Eric just didn’t stand a chance_.

 

And Wheein, when her work relationship with Yongsun blossomed into an actual close friendship, she was often the ear Yongsun went off to when she’s irritated.

 

So imagine Wheein surprise when she’s lazily lounging inside a studio, waiting for Yongsun to arrive since the older woman told her that she needs someone to talk to, when Yongsun barges in with her hair sticking up and disheveled, looking very flushed.

 

“Are we dating?” Yongsun blurts out, not even bothering to sit as she paces the length of the small room.

 

“Huh?” was Wheein’s unhelpful reply, scrambling for a proper response when Yongsun glared at her. “, I mean, unnie, we obviously _aren’t_.” The last word ended more of a question. Maybe her unnie has feelings for her…?

 

Yongsun stops pacing, staring at Wheein with wide eyes. “Not _us!_ ” There’s a very aggressive hand motion in between the space between them and if Yongsun wasn’t so clearly agitated, Wheein would’ve took offense in how vehemently the older woman denied the possibility of liking her romantically. She pouted instead, because Wheein can be petty like that. Yongsun sighs at the pout. “You know that’s not what I mean,” she rakes a hand up her hair, further agitating the extensions. “, I meant, like, Byul and I.”

 

Oh.

 

_Oooooh._

 

Wheein feels herself gaping, jaw slack, and she snaps out of it when Yongsun slouches to the space next to her, mistaking Wheein’s silence as incredulity, muttering a _please forget I said anything, I’m just overthinking again_.

 

“No!” Wheein sputtered, turning and tucking a leg underneath herself as she faces Yongsun. “This is a good thing! You, overthinking, I mean.” Yongsun raises an eyebrow but more or less has her whole attention on the younger woman. “Unnie, do you like Byulyiunnie?”

 

“Of course,” Yongsun says easily, the kind of answer that she won’t even give a second to think about because _duh_. Who doesn’t like Byul?

 

“Like, more than a friend, unnie. The dating kind.” Wheein let’s it sink in for a few seconds, reaching out to rub at the fabric at Yongsun’s shoulder. “Do you like Byulyiunnie enough to consider dating her?”

 

Yongsun stares at her hand. Thinking of Byul and dating in one sentence is making her dizzy, the quick kiss Byul dropped on her cheek this morning as the other woman rushed out of their apartment assaulting the forefront of her mind. She can’t deny that they’re both comfortable with each other, testament of how far they’ve come from bickering back at college and to maturing into their relationship now; incomplete without the other, always seeking each other’s presence.

 

“I,” Yongsun starts, mouth dry and words heavy. “, maybe? I don’t know.” She sighs, playing with the loose thread on the hem of her sleeve. “It’s weird that I’m thinking about it now, you know? Like, we both spent _years_ telling everyone we’re _not_ dating and then here I am, rethinking about why we _aren’t_.”

 

Wheein hums, getting her unnie’s dilemma. “How about this instead: what made you _think_?”

 

She worries at Yongsun’s silence, the hum of the air conditioner filling the space and bouncing off of walls.

 

“It’s embarrassing,” Yongsun admits, raising her hips to grope her backside for her phone, pulling up something on the screen and showing it to Wheein. It’s Byul’s instagram, a small edited video of them in their small time at Busan months ago, Wheein watching the short video intently, face blank, before turning back to Yongsun.

 

“And you’re showing me this because?”

 

Yongsun blushes, fiddling with her phone. “I just,” she blows out a breath, annoyed at the jumbled words that fails to tumble out of her mouth. Oh, god, why is speaking so hard? “, she always takes photos, you know? I’ve always known how I looked like when I smile because of the pictures she takes. But this is weirder, more intimate.”

 

Wheein’s patient, not wanting to push for too much but also wanting to _be_ a push. “How so?”

 

“It’s was just pictures at first, Wheeinah,” Yongsun whines. “, it was something _still_. But now watching this I can’t help but think that _oh is that how I smile?_ Like, I _see_ it happening. I _see_ the process of how even just staring at her makes me smile and I get to watch it and like, it’s disarming, you know? That I didn’t know how _bright_ I looked whenever I smiled for her.” She leans back on the couch, the leather squeaking under her. “I don’t know if I love her in _that_ way, but seeing myself like that, so happy with her, it makes me wonder _why aren’t we dating?_ She clearly makes me happy. And I think I make her happy, too. I just, I don’t know.”

 

 _Wow_ , Wheein thinks. Maybe Hyejin didn’t need to show the blackmail photo, after all. Her unnie just figured it out (maybe, she hopes).

 

“If you ask me, unnie, I think you’ll get a proper answer if you ask Byulyiunnie. You won’t get the answers from me but I’m happy that you told me.” She doesn’t know what she’s saying, to be honest, but mentally pats herself in the back when her unnie looks comforted with the words nonetheless. “You’ll never know if she likes you back if you don’t tell her, you know?”

 

And it’s times like this that Wheein laments their closeness, as she remember the bet she made with Hyejin about how Wheein’s _sure_ it will be Byul who makes the first move, but here she is, pushing along her possibility of losing five thousand won to her best friend.

 

 _Damn it, Hyejin, you’re good_.

 

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update in less than 24 hrs? lolololol three chapters left in this and i'll announce my next fic in the second to the last chapter then upload a prologue along with this fic's last chapter xx
> 
> hint: it's fluffy and another omegaverse xx
> 
> twitter: rexwrites


	8. ::vii::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: both of them being too nervous to ask if they’re just friends or actually in a relationship so they’re both awkward, confused, flustered messes

::

 

 _This is ridiculous_ , Byul thought, resting her forehead against the cool leather of her car’s steering wheel, sighing at the direction of the passenger seat as her phone on the seat illuminates the space, her message thread with her best friend opened on the screen, mocking her further.

 

**_Yongddunnie [6:02PM]_ **

_Already home, btw_

_Are you done with work?_

_Can you buy laundry detergent on the way?_

_We’re out and laundry’s all piled up ;-;_

 

She peels herself away from how she slouched herself against the steering wheel, hands reaching for the blinker as she throws the car in reverse, taking one fleeting look at their apartment complex before her as she backs away from the driveway. She’s got laundry detergent to buy.

 

**_Byulyiii [6:28PM]_ **

_Great timing, just got out of work_

_Anything else you want me to buy?_

 

She scratches her thigh at the obvious lie she told, wondering why she just didn’t tell Yongsun that she was already pulling up at the driveway when she asked for the detergent, wondering if this is what Hyejin means when she teases her that she’s whipped.

 

**_Yongddunnie [6:29PM]_ **

_Awesome!_

_Some ice cream would be nice xx_

_And I’m cooking tonight, hurry home_

 

 _Yup_ , she thinks, not aware of the smile on her lips until she sees her face at the rearview mirror, _I’m whipped_.

 

::

 

If people asked, out of the two of them, Byul will answer that Yongsun is definitely the least insecure out of the two of them.

 

Tonight’s a testimony to that.

 

Byul is lounging on Yongsun’s—their—bed, her back to the piled up pillows behind her, as she scrolls through her phone and reading various e-mails. She sees Yongsun out of the corner of her eye, shimmying inside the room in an awkward shuffle, clothes in hand and a towel slung over her shoulder, music playing from her phone.

 

Amused, Byul continues in watching her best friend, switching apps until she’s recording the display of awkward limbs and an even more awkward dance. That is, until Yongsun catches her, Byul feeling her face heat up at the wink sent her way, hypnotized at the way Yongsun grasps the door jamb of the bathroom, throwing her hair over the shoulder with the draped towel, eyes on Byul as she spreads her legs and _drops_.

 

Byul catches her breath stuttering, blinking rapidly as Yongsun stretches her legs, bent forward as she picks herself back up in an upright position, sending another wink to her flushed best friend and then sings along to her phone, closing the door of the bathroom as if nothing happened.

 

 _This is a problem_.

 

Ever since Byul admitted out loud—albeit to her own father—that she likes Yongsun, it’s always nagging her at the back of her brain, waiting for the most opportune moment to invade the forefront of Byul’s mind with images of her best friend.

 

Yongsun in the mornings—bleary eyes and sleepy mumbles, hot breaths against Byul’s neck as she pulls her tighter in the mornings; hair pulled up in a bun as she reads on the couch with Jjing on her lap; attempting at making different hairstyles with the help of the shampoo as she pulls back the shower curtain and making Byul laugh from where she’s brushing her teeth.

 

Yongsun during lunch—most times draped over her lap at their usual space on Yongsun’s company lounge, sharing one plate and Yongsun feeding her as she thumbs through the skin under Yongsun’s shirt and above the hem of her pants; sauce dripping over the side of her lips that she always doesn’t notice until Byul pulls her face in an attempt to kiss it away, giggling and pushing Byul away as she catches the sauce herself; Yongsun always seemingly waiting for her during the lunch breaks she can stop by, leaning against her company’s reception desk, faking her surprise in her arrival as if they weren’t just texting minutes before.

 

Yongsun in the evenings—using utensils as microphones, swaying her hips to the always-playing music around their apartment as they cook; reading glasses perched on top of a cute nose, sitting on the floor in between Byul’s legs as she dries Yongsun’s hair for her; soft edges pressed up against Byul’s side, feeling every curve of Yongsun comfortably against her own, breathing hot on her neck as Yongsun snuggled closer into the night.

 

It’s distracting but also _very_ much welcome.

 

Byul sighs, scolding herself at replaying Yongsun’s video earlier, choosing to switch back to her e-mail app.

 

The song floating from under the bathroom door changes just as Byul hears the shower curtain move to the side, seeing Yongsun in her mind’s eye, dripping wet and—there’s a sound of the cabinet opening—putting lotion all over herself, bending over the closed lid of the toilet—

 

_No._

 

She stops that train of thought that’s been testing her sanity lately.

 

A sound of the blow dryer drowns out the sound of the song, Byul idly scrolling through social media instead to pass the time. She never sleeps without Yongsun at the bed, at least, always mindful of spending every minute with her best friend as she could.

 

When the apparent sound of Yongsun blow drying her hair stops, Byul’s ears turn hot at the new song playing.

 

It’s _Honey Bee_ , the song Yongsun did a collaboration with two top idols, the song oozing of sexiness. _Yongsun’s_ sexiness. This happened so many times in the past that Byul already knew to brace herself, _hard_ , at what will happen next.

 

The door opens, steam flowing out and distracting Byul for a moment before she manages to drag her eyes up, watching as Yongsun strut outside of the bathroom, _naked_ , footsteps falling in time with the tempo as she slinks over Byul’s side of the bed, her body close enough to make Byul’s mouth water, feeling herself grip her thigh under the sheets hard, so as to stop herself from doing something stupid and brash like pulling Yongsun closer to her and kissing the mole on top of her pubic bone.

 

Yongsun’s voice slices through the air, singing even both Luna and Hani’s parts, pulling at Byul’s pliant body until Byul feels herself sitting at the edge of the bed, Yongsun standing naked in between her legs and her best friend pulling at her hands until it rests on Yongsun’s hips.

 

She feels the knob of Yongsun’s hips swaying, soft skin still warm from the shower, goosebumps raising at every pass of the cold air. Byul feels a knot at her throat.

 

She doesn’t get it. This happened many times before. So why does simply _knowing_ that she has feelings make it different?

 

“Yong,” she rasps out, surprised at how her own voice sounds, grip tightening at the skin and watches in great fascination that it leaves red imprints on the surface.

 

Cold fingers press against her chin, pulling her stare up past against peaked breasts, and trapped into Yongsun’s half-lidded stare. The older woman smirks, palm pressing against Byul’s sternum as she pushes and pushes and _pushes_ until Byul’s back is pressed against the mattress, her breathing starting to pick up and heart feeling like it’ll break out of her ribs any time soon.

 

But Yongsun makes another swivel of her hips, the note of the chorus ringing into their bedroom walls as Yongsun steps away from her, hears the rustling of fabric and the next time she sees her best friend, Yongsun is wearing just a shirt that looks suspiciously from Byul’s side of the closet and barely-there underwear.

 

Byul doesn’t move from where Yongsun pushed her, watching as Yongsun hovers above her head upside down from the older woman’s side of the bed.

 

“You okay there?” Yongsun asks, mirth dancing in her eyes or it’s just the lamp playing tricks on Byul’s sanity.

 

She hums, only moving when Yongsun leans in, only when the tips of their nose touch, and Byul doesn’t know what game Yongsun’s playing tonight but it’s either going to end up with Byul finally moving out of the way or Byul letting it happen.

 

Oh, god, she’s not prepared for making a move yet.

 

So she turns her head, squirming on top of the duvet until she’s lying like she usually does, not sparing a glance to Yongsun’s amused stare, before reaching over and turning off the light.

 

Yongsun slides up beside her like usual, legs intertwined under the sheets as usual, but Byul feels herself heating up again when Yongsun presses a kiss to her neck.

 

And lets her lips stay there until she falls asleep.

 

Byul had a hard time falling asleep that night.

 

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i KNOW the prompt lolol but i choose to ignore it for the sake of "because im more rooting for confident gay!yongsun and gay panic!byul lolol im so sorry if this chapter also lacks or seems rushed but i've been more focused on the new fic (my bad) and i've also got uni to think about on a daily basis. 
> 
> ALSO i wanted to get it going for the sexual tension shit since i DID promise smut x) and what more sexual tension than honey bee, amirite? lolol
> 
> two more chapters left in this fic anddd the next update may take a couple more days because i'll be uploading the prologue for the new fic at the same time, hope you're as excited as i am xx
> 
> twitter: rexwrites


	9. ::viii::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: “we’re ‘friends’ but i’d totally date you if you asked me out”

 ::

 

Cheeks still warm and eyes heavy, Byul feels herself stirring from a deep sleep, tendrils of the early morning seeping through the closed curtains of their bedroom, lips curling into a yawn when she feels it.

 

It’s Yongsun.

 

On top of her.

 

“Good morning,” Yongsun rasps out, bare legs spilling out of the oversized shirt that’s slipping from a shoulder, Byul feeling herself heat up at the sensual image of her best friend on top of her like this, the fog of her sleep blurring away as Yongsun settles herself more firmly against Byul’s pelvis.

 

Byul makes a move to get up, failing when she finds herself distracted at the sudden shift of Yongsun’s weight against her, a moan barely held back with gritted teeth as Yongsun pushes her down on the mattress with Byul’s wrists pinned to the pillows, still warm from their bodies.

 

“I’m starting to think,” Byul starts, testing the weight of Yongsun’s grip on her wrists. It doesn’t budge and Yongsun’s smirk grows. “, that you like being on top of me.”

 

Yongsun smiles, all lethal sensuality and softness of the morning. “Oh, baby,” she teases more by rocking her painfully _slow_ , looking down at the younger woman who’s visibly biting her lower lip to stop any sound from coming out, gaze heavy and focused on her. “, you have _no_ idea.”

 

As glorious as the wake up is, Byul also feels herself slipping away. This is her wake up call for the past couple of weeks, for fuck’s sake. The day always starting and ending with Yongsun’s teasing. There’s only so much teasing Byul can take before she snaps and does something like kissing Yongsun. Or maybe trying to free her wrists again to guide the slow grind of those perfect hips against hers.

 

A hiss escapes her when Yongsun grinds harder before easing back into a gentle rock, soft enough to not elicit another sound from her but constant enough to remind her of the weight on top of her.

 

The past couple of weeks are nothing short of a painful sort of heaven for Byul, Yongsun seemingly finding great joy in watching her best friend squirm and push the limits of Byul’s sanity—and sexuality—with every tease she comes up with.

 

And as the past weeks have went on, today isn’t different. Nothing came out of it, sadly, just a sexually frustrated Byul and a gigling Yongsun as she skips over the bathroom for her shower.

 

Now, Byul forces to tune out Yongsun’s humming coming from the ajar door of their shared bedroom, sips her coffee aggressively as the rhythmic click of Yongsun’s heels echoes in their apartment, smirking at Byul who backs away until her back’s pressed to the sink, away from the devil known as her best friend.

 

Yongsun struts towards her, one hand coming to rest on the counter near Byul’s hip, the other coming up to snatch the mug of coffee from her hands. She watches helplessly as Yongsun takes a sip, licking her lips in a _very_ suggestive manner, before setting the mug down on the sink.

 

“You know,” Yongsun says, leaning in closer until Byul goes cross-eyed at their lack of distance. “, I’ve been thinking,”

 

“Uh-oh,” Byul sasses back, finally fighting back, much to Yongsun’s amusement.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” Yongsun repeats, playing with a loose lock of Byul’s hair, tugging on it lightly on every other second. “, if you’d ask me out, I’d say yes.”

 

There it is—a change. Usually Yongsun’s agenda is _tease Byul, shower, tease Byul some more, head to work_.

 

Byul both feels elated and agitated, taking a breath once, counting backwards in her mind, before she regards the playfully challenging look on her best friend’s eyes. She takes a step forward.

 

“Kim Yongsun,” she rasps out, startling Yongsun with the lowness of her voice, the older woman taking a step backward as her best friend continues in advancing forward. “, I know you’ve been teasing me for whatever sick amusement you seem to be enjoying, but you’re my best friend, and I swear, if you’re _still_ joking this time around, I’ll walk away from you this instant.”

 

Emotions are flaring, Yongsun feels the cold counter pressing against her back from where she’s backed-up, incredulity rising as she scoffs, meeting the challenge head on.

 

Pushing herself up, Yongsun digs her fist on the material of Byul’s sleep shirt, bunching the fabric as she pulls the other woman closer, closer, _closer_ , feeling lips against hers and a warm body falling into hers tightly, heat igniting at the minuscule space in between them.

 

It’s a hot press of impossibly soft lips against hers, tasting of the coffee she just stole from Byul and _why didn’t I kiss her sooner?_ A sigh escapes Yongsun at the feel of Byul’s hands coming up to circle around her waist, pulling them both closer that before, feeling liquid passion melting at her lips and straight down her body.

 

Yongsun breaks the kiss away, indulging herself with soft pecks as Byul chases her lips in another, the fist she’s got bundled in the shirt untangling as she pushes her best friend away from her.

 

Yongsun licks her lips. “Tonight, 7PM,” her voice is noticeably hoarse, Byul’s eyes still locked on the lips in front of her. “, we’re going on a date.”

 

::

 

_“What?!”_

 

“I _know!_ ” Wheein half whispers, half yells into her phone, pacing herself back and forth in the small expanse of the company’s women bathroom, her hand creeping up and further tousling her hair. “I can’t believe it either!”

 

Hyejin repeats _wait_ over and over again at the other side of the call, sounding as panicked as Wheein. _“Are you sure that’s what happened?”_

 

“Yes!” Wheein even throws her hand up for exaggeration purposes, the bathroom mirror painfully reminding her that she’s alone and going crazy and _oh my god, her unnies are going on a date_. “Yongsunnie just told me earlier!”

 

 _“Oh my god,”_ Hyejin sighs, sounding defeated. Silent for a moment before Wheein hears: _“Does this mean none of us win the bet, then? They technically both made the first move.”_

 

“Ahn Hyejin!”

 

::

 

Byul feels stupid.

 

She got out of work early (see: 3PM), bought a bouquet of flowers that she thinks Yongsun will appreciate enough to place in their dining table tomorrow morning, backpedaling through downtown as she contemplates a box of sweets too, video calling her dad to _yes, my dearest daughter, that outfit looks fine_ , taking a shower for an hour and ridding herself of every imaginable filth off of her body.

 

She’s sitting on the couch, topless but with her pants and socks on, not trusting herself to _not_ sweat through her shirt out of sheer anxiety, re-reading their message thread.

 

**_Yongdunnie [11:48AM]_ **

_How about we just meet up at the apartment later?_

_Save taxi money lol_

_And I’ll need to take a shower anyway_

 

**_Byulyiii [11:49AM]_ **

_Sure, sounds great_

 

**_Byulyiii [3:59PM]_ **

_I’m home, btw_

 

**_Yongdunnie [4:02PM]_ **

_WhY ARE YOU EARLY???_

_WE STILL HAVE THREE HOURS_

_Excited to go on a date with me, Moon?_

_;)))_

 

**_Byulyiii [4:03PM]_ **

_It’s hilarious how accurate the amount of double chin you used is the same in real life_

_Maybe I am, Miss Kim :^)_

 

**_Yongdunnie [4:05PM]_ **

_What a way with words to charm a lady_

_And Hyejin once told me not to trust anyone who uses that emoji ;p_

 

**_Byulyiii [4:06PM]_ **

_Since when did you start listening to that woman?_

_Hurry home_

 

Back to the present, Byul resents sending that last message. Just the thought of Yongsun already on the way back home is enough to send her leg in a fit, jiggling up and down out of her control, nervousness creeping in her blood, before she realizes that _oh, Yongsun will take a shower when she gets home_.

 

And fuck it, she has a _lot_ of time to spare.

 

::

 

Yongsun comes home to an unexpected sight.

 

She dangles her heels from a hand, amused at watching their dogs pressed up on her best friend—her _very_ topless best friend—on the couch, a drama playing in the background, drowned out by the sound of Byul’s snores.

 

She tip toes towards the couch, wanting to push back the hair on Byul’s forehead and press a kiss there, blushing when she remembers their moment in the kitchen earlier, but decides to back away after watching Byul sleep. Her best friend’s a light sleeper, better let her rest first.

 

Heading to the shower, Yongsun prepares a shower.

 

::

 

Her mouth’s dry, smacking her lips as she rubs her eyes. The TV’s turned off, the apartment completely dark, and Byul feels panic seizing up in her chest when she sees the clock.

 

**_9:08PM_ **

 

“Fuck,” she whispers around the dark space, groping the couch for her phone, finally noticing the sliver of light coming out from their bedroom. “Yong?”

 

There’s a muffled _yeah?_ from beyond the door and Byul shuffles her feet on the floor, socks still on her feet as her torso gets assaulted by the cool air, still topless.

 

Yongsun’s on the carpeted floor, back pressed against the side of the bed as she paints her nails, humming along to the music playing from the speakers on their bedside table. “You’re awake,” she says, tongue poking out, and finishes another stroke of the nail polish.

 

Byul drops down to her best friend’s side, chin hooked on Yongsun’s shoulder as she attempts to pull the other woman closer with an arm around a slim waist. “I’m sorry I fell asleep,” the words are murmured against warm skin exposed by the thin straps of Yongsun’s shirt.

 

The weight of Yongsun pressing back against Byul’s front reassures the younger woman that Yongsun isn’t mad at her.

 

Yongsun turns her head, burying her face against the crook of Byul’s neck. “Give me a kiss and I’ll forgive you.”

 

With careful hands, Byul plucked the nail polish away from Yongsun, turning the older woman and tugging until Yongsun’s thighs are trapping her hips, weight settled on top of her again and it’s welcomed this time with the knowledge that Byul can _finally_ do something about it.

 

Byul chases Yongsun’s lips as the older woman teases her by leaning back, Byul’s fingers tangling into short hair as she tugs Yongsun forward, swallowing the sound of surprise with her lips.

 

It’s soft and over far too soon than they both prefer. But when Byul finally sees Yongsun flushed up close, suddenly shy, she can’t resist the urge to cradle soft cheeks against her palm, leaning in for more.

 

Fuck their dinner reservations, this is much more worth it.

 

Even if they ended up eating delivery on their living room and in their pajamas, their dogs happily chasing each other and twining between their legs often, Yongsun realizes that any date with Byul always settles something warm inside her chest that she dare names love.

 

::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter is next woot !! i can't believe i finally finished a fic ohmygod lololol. pls support my next fic: "not as much as i do" and its prologue is already up :))
> 
> twitter: rexwrites


	10. ::ix::

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompt: never really truly establishing their relationship but it more or less just happens and they both accept it

::

 

Yongsun still remembers the first time she had sex. Who forgets their first time, anyway?

 

It was with the boy she’s dating in college for almost a year. After a fancy dinner—as fancy as college students could afford—they laughed and he drank and when he whispered in her ear that his roommate was gone for the weekend, they ended up in his bed and Yongsun out of it after an hour.

 

She kisses his forehead, walking with a sting in between her legs, cold air biting at her ears as she takes a cab back to her and Byul’s apartment.

 

It wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t have an orgasm that night. Or the few more times after that.

 

They broke up when Yongsun’s too busy with being scouted by companies and college.

 

And he found someone else.

 

The break up was inevitable, Yongsun liked him enough to send him holiday greetings when she sees him online, but the idea of an orgasm induced by anyone other than herself was a mystery to her for a while after that.

 

Nowadays, her lack of dating for the past year (and lack of sex for three) made her dependent on herself for finding pleasure.

 

So, Yongsun’s not so sure what’s different with Moon Byulyi.

 

Every touch leaves her tingling, every kiss has her reeling—her body singing at the notion of Byul’s proximity to her and it’s driving Yongsun crazy how _effortless_ Byul’s touches and kisses seems to get her _so close_ to the edge.

 

And tonight’s not an exception of Byul’s powers in the bedroom.

 

They head back earlier than most—another award night for Yongsun with Byul as her automatic date—both fidgeting at the back of the cab, sitting at both ends of the backseat, but the intertwined fingers in between them, Yongsun’s constant worrying of her lip, and the almost rhythmic bouncing of Byul’s legs gives away their frustration.

 

Yongsun smoothes out the dress, subtly wiping at the moisture on her palms as she watches Byul lowering her head to the cab’s window to pay their ride. She stumbles when Byul takes her hand and practically tugs her inside their apartment complex.

 

“You okay?” Yongsun decides to ask, watching as Byul harshly jabs at the elevator button.

 

Byul’s shoulder shakes as she heaves a breath in, eyes closed, before they turn to Yongsun with such intensity that the older woman unconsciously grips harder at her best friend’s forearm.

 

“I just really want to get home and you out of that dress, are you okay with that?”

 

The politeness tacked at the end throws Yongsun for a whiplash. It’s unusual and yet so _Byulyi_ —she thinks she falls a little bit harder for her best friend.

 

Yongsun bites her lip. “More than fine.”

 

There’s no awkward fumbling the moment they stepped inside their shared space, Byul turning to lock their front door as Yongsun unclasps her heels, Byul feeling hands on her shoulders as Yongsun helps her slip her coat off of her, and then the older woman handing Byul her heels as she waits for the taller woman to finish stashing their shoes at a high cabinet.

 

Their dogs—lazy guard dogs that they are—are snuggled against a fallen throw pillow from the couch, heads raising and ears alert when their owners step inside the living room, but otherwise not moving from their position.

 

“You two are the worst,” Byul sighs, patting each of their head affectionately.

 

“Byul-ah,” Yongsun’s voice drifts from their bedroom door, Byul patting their pets one last time before she slides her sock clad feet on the floor. She pokes her head in, finding Yongsun seated at the vanity mirror. “Unzip me?”

 

Wolfish grin, Byul waggles her eyebrows at Yongsun, their seemingly earlier sexual tension in the cab forgotten but still simmering under their skins.

 

“Want to wash your face first?” Byul whispers when she’s close enough, voice not louder than the sound of the zipper being pulled down, reveling in the expanse of smooth skin revealed at every tug of her fingers.

 

“Mm,” Yongsun noncommittally hums, taking off her earrings, shuddering at the cold fingers peeling the fabric of her dress away from her shoulders. She bits back a moan at the unexpected feel of Byul’s lightly chapped lips on her shoulder, the roughness and softness of it raising the tension in her nerves.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” Byul sighs into the skin, lips still attached on soft skin, skimming upwards until she reaches an unmarked neck. “, always are.”

 

Yongsun watches the blush creep down to the top of her chest as her best friend pushes the dress further away from her body, revealing the lace strapless bra she has on. She stands up, turning and pushing a palm on Byul’s sternum, wanting to push the other woman away and at least wash her face first, but Byul just pushes forward.

 

Arm tightly trapped between them, Yongsun feels her back collide with the edge of her desk, deft fingers and soft palms dragging the dress further down until the material’s pooling down at Yongsun’s feet.

 

“What are you doing?” She whispers into the space between them, half naked and heating up as Byul drags a heavy gaze through her body.

 

Byul hooks a finger under the older woman’s chin, tipping it upwards and sideways, exposing the column of an unmarked throat, Byulyi itching to suck her mark into the pale skin.

 

“I’ve seen you in less clothing than this hundreds of time,” a finger traces down Yongsun’s neck, down to her collarbone, hips stuttering when Byul pulls at the lace where the front clasp of her bra lies. “, but you’re unexplainably more stunning now.”

 

Yongsun frees the arm trapped between them, clasping Byul’s proding fingers within hers and places her best friend’s palm on top of her breast where her heart’s beating fast.

 

Feeling brave, she asks: “What makes tonight different?”

 

Byul leans down, intertwining their fingers and pulling it away from Yongsun’s skin, kissing the constant _thump_ of a heartbeat with her lips, looking up at Yongsun with half-lidded eyes.

 

“Tonight, I know you love me too.”

 

Yongsun feels her breath catch, a feeling of sting coming at the back of her eyes that she tries to blink away. Byul senses the impending waterworks, shushing the older woman as she kisses each eyelid carefully, hands cradled at the back of Yongsun’s head as she scratches at a scalp.

 

There’s a rustling of clothes and when Yongsun feels confident enough that no tears will spill tonight, she opens her eyes to a sight of Byul tugging her tie loose as well as trying to pluck the buttons of her navy blue dress shirt with one hand. Yongsun laughs, swatting slim fingers away as she takes the liberty to unbutton the shirt, the fabric of Byul’s same deep blue bra peeking through the fabric.

 

Leaving the tie loose and the shirt unbuttoned all the way, tugged out of Byul’s dress pants and left hanging on slim shoulders, Yongsun smirks at the feel of expensive lace.

 

“Hoping to get lucky tonight, huh?” She’s teasing but the blush rising up Byul’s cheeks gives the younger woman entirely away. “Oh my god, you were, weren’t you?”

 

Byul recovers from the teasing, warm hands stealthily making their way up and around Yongsun’s back, pulling the older woman flush against her as she tugs them both to the bed, dropping on her back and Yongsun bouncing on top of her at the impact.

 

“If I said I want to touch you tonight, would you stop me?”

 

Yongsun makes a show of looking at the hold Byul has around her waist, sitting up and straddling the younger woman, warm hands still left at her waist.

 

“You’re touching me now,” Yongsun sasses, tongue poking out of her teeth as she parts the dress shirt Byul still has on, the fabric pooling to her best friend’s side like a frame, accentuating the dips of a toned stomach further. “, or do you mean something else?”

 

Byul holds Yongsun’s nape, tugging the older woman down and against her lips, nipping at a bottom lip that makes Yongsun’s body tense in anticipation, breath growing ragged when Byul doesn’t let up on her hold, forcing Yongsun to melt against her hold and be more pliant.

 

Breaking the kiss, Byul’s quick fingers open the front clasp of Yongsun’s bra, easing the strapless garment away before she kisses her way down a heaving chest.

 

“When I said I’ll touch you,” Byul blows a breath against a peak, watches as her best friend on top of her shudders, feels nails digging into her shoulder. “, I’ll fucking _worship_ you, Kim Yongsun.”

 

::

 

**_m.v.film_ ** _34 minutes ago_

 

 

_asked her to be my girlfriend and she didn’t mind_

 

**ahnhwasa, jungwheeinofficial, and 682,931 others liked this**

 

**jungwheeinofficial** _we wete luterally tigethwr tgree hiurs ago??????_

**kangddeulgi** _omg @baeirene @seungwendy i wON THE BET!!!!_

**ahnhwasa** _@jungwheeinofficial another bet about what yongsunnie’s wearing under the sheets_

**moonshipper22** _WBK SIS WBK CONGRATS_

**solarspinkhair** _so gay. we stan._

**queenhwasa4ever** _I WANNA KNOW WHAT BET WHEESA MADE_

 

::

 

hooray to my first multichap fic done xx if you liked my story, [treat me to coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/fxbricxtedrexlity)

thankyou to the lovely welcome into the radish family, moomoos!! check out my other works and follow me on my [twitter](http://twitter.com/rexwrites) to be friends with me xx

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND IT'S A WRAP !!


End file.
